


Why Don't You Run?

by Cloudy



Series: The Devil is a Gentleman [3]
Category: Magic Kaito
Genre: Alternate Universe, Black Org Saguru, Canon Typical Violence, Gen, Vignette, black org au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28911417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudy/pseuds/Cloudy
Summary: Armagnac catches a certain thief tailing him and decides two can play at that game. For the third time, the agent catches the thief by surprise. Tensions are not eased in the slightest.
Series: The Devil is a Gentleman [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2097753
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21





	Why Don't You Run?

"Good evening, Kaitou KID-san."

He could nearly see the other boy's hair begin to stand on end. He observed a hand coming up to adjust the brim of a nondescript baseball cap. The other hand twitched at his side, a minute, almost-unnoticeable movement.

"It's rude to sneak up on people like that, you know," Kuroba spoke, keeping his back to him.

Armagnac was impressed by his control; a much less dramatic reaction than the last time they crossed paths, certainly. The thief had bristled back then, too, but first he'd nearly jumped out of his skin. "Ah, yes, you made that clear to me last time, I believe." A laugh edged Armagnac's voice without ever quite taking form.

Perhaps the most pleasing part of this was that it had so clearly been Kuroba's intent to tail him, and not the other way around. Armagnac supposed he couldn't blame the boy for wanting to learn a little bit more about the new interloper in his life, but he wasn't quite ready to let Kuroba discover too much on that front. Now wasn't the greatest time to have a tail, anyway; he had a job to do that didn't involve the thief and his theatrical escapades, and he preferred not to let his personal interests mix with his work life.

"And anyway, it's rude to follow people around without invitation, so I suppose we both have lessons we haven't yet learned."

"Funny you mention that," Kuroba drawled out, and Armagnac couldn't see his face, but he could hear the way his mouth curved into a sardonic sort of grin. "I don't think I'm the one who started that trend."

"So you're following my lead?"

“Tch. Something like that.” He was wound tight. Armagnac wondered what button he’d need to press to unleash that tension. Armagnac took a single, measured step toward him.

“I suppose I’m a bad influence on you, then.” He kept his own tone light, nonchalant. Amused and ultimately uncaring.

“It has nothing to do with _influence_ ,” Armagnac heard him sneer. “I’m following you because you decided to make yourself all suspicious. I still don’t know what you want with _me_.”

“Be mindful of your hand, thief,” he said simply. He took a step nearer now, closing in the space. “If you keep looking indiscriminately and stick it somewhere it doesn’t belong, you might lose something. Or otherwise you may not like what you discover.” As he spoke, he continued to advance.

Kuroba whirled to face him then, his baseball cap concealing the upper half of his face thanks to the way he angled his head. The line of his jaw was a little different from usual—light disguise? It was better than going after him bare-faced, but only barely.

There was a blur of movement that Armagnac couldn’t quite process.

The projectile that flew just beside his face was—unexpected, to say the least. Even less expected was the delayed sting he began to feel where he'd felt the rush of air. Whatever had flown past him—it'd grazed, and left some sort of scratch. The warmth welling up told him that it had even drawn blood, if only slightly. Some kind of firearm was aimed at him, held in Kuroba's hand.

The card gun.

Armagnac's own expression came alight with something like fascination. He hadn't understood the full extent of the weapon, but clearly the cards had the capacity to act as sharpened projectiles. Lined with chemical agents, those cards could do significant damage. He was pleased to discover that even he was not immune to underestimating the arsenal at Kuroba's disposal.

He would have to be more cautious in the future.

Before Armagnac could react or say a thing about it, Kuroba had vanished in a much less pronounced cloud of smoke than might have occurred at one of his heists. No confetti or glitter accompanied, and the smoke dissipated without further fanfare. But Kuroba was gone without a trace, just as if this were one of his performances.

All for the best, really. The meeting was less than a block from here, and he was pushing his luck on time.

**Author's Note:**

> Isn't Armagnac kind of a pest? Feel free to reach out to me here, or you can reach me on tumblr! My url is sagurus.


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